


Wilbur's Unfinished Symphony and the Glue that Held it Together

by xTylar_Writes_Thingsx



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Attempted Murder, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jack Doesn't Know What To Feel, Manipulation, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad ending :(, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29071353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xTylar_Writes_Thingsx/pseuds/xTylar_Writes_Thingsx
Summary: “The glue is the remaining thing leftover from his song, reminding everyone of the rich sounds the composer had created. The glue needs to stop subsisting, and only then will Wilbur's song remain forever unfinished.” Tommy took in deep gulps of breath, gasping in the cold night air.Jack wanted Tommy dead by his own accord, by his own hands, by Jack’s sacrificial blood given up in a goblet as an offer to the consumers of the golden salamanders tail, by Jack's own soluent dissolving Tommy's so-called glue.He hated Tommy so much. He hated Tommy. A few traitorous tears slipped down his face.He couldn't save him.-------AKA: Jack goes to his thinking spot at the highest peak on the SMP to reflect on another one of his failed assassination attempts to kill Tommy, but when he reaches the summit, he meets the boy in question. Why was Tommy crying?
Relationships: Jack Manifold & TommyInnit
Comments: 11
Kudos: 286





	Wilbur's Unfinished Symphony and the Glue that Held it Together

**Author's Note:**

> Woah! Hey there pal, slow down just a bit! I just want to say a few things! This story includes things such as manipulation and suicide, so if those things are triggering to you in any way, I would suggest that you go read something a little lighter! I suggest looking at SBI things :). Stay safe! Also, I am not very proud of this fic as I wrote it in my AP classes instead of when I was supposed to be paying attention. I'm sorry if some things are off, or if the writing is weird. This is not the best representation of my work. :D

Jack sighed, running a hand against his buzzed hair as his shoes clapped against the worn pavement of the prime path. He was taking a midnight hike to reflect on what had happened yesterday, slowly walking to one of the tallest mountains near spawn. 

He had failed, yet again, to kill Tommy. That idiotic boy always somehow evaded every chance Jack received to kill him.  _ Why _ ? 

Jack kicked a rock off of the path harshly, wincing when its jagged edges pressed harshly against his shoe. 

Why is it that Tommy can harness the Lady of Luck for his ideals, but when Jack sacrifices a lamb to the goddess she turns on him with disgust? He had never asked for anything before; not for help, not for sanction. He just wants one thing, one thing and he can put L’Manburg and Wilbur and everything that he was hung up on to rest. 

But it seems that God had favourites. It wasn't fair. Jack stepped off the path as he reached the base of the mountain, preparing to descend the steep pathway that led to its summit. The contrast of the tranquil grass and Jack’s rage was striking, and the whispering of wind seemed to clear his mind. 

There were always more chances to exterminate the boy, he just had to be patient. Jack walked up the path of the hill as surrounding insects skittered away from him and into the brush. If he was patient, he would eventually be gifted with the perfect chance to eliminate the boy he hates most in this world. 

Jack takes one last step to hoist himself up to the peak of the incline. He would be given the perfect opportunity, he just had to think. Jack's breath hitched and his outstretched foot retreated. 

He crouched down quickly, hidden behind the tall brush of the landscape. Jack’s mouth split into a grin. God is finally compensating him for all of the work he has done. 

There, sitting on the top of the ledge, was Tommy. Tommy, the one he had struggled to slaughter for so long. It was almost too simple. One slip and Tommy could fall to his death, an accident that Jack had 'never witnessed'. No one expected Jack to harbour murderous intent towards Tommy, he could even blame it as suicide! 

Jack looked up to the moon and thanked whatever entity gifted him with this. In that moment, Jack didn't heed if it was Satan he was praying to. 

As quietly as he could muster, he drew a dagger from his belt. He was going to push the blond off, but knowing Tommy he would most likely put up a fight. Jack sidestepped from behind the brush, cringing as dirt crunched under his shoe. 

Jack took his time getting as close as he could to the boy, taking a step then waiting a minute, taking another step and so forth this pattern continued.

Jack smirked when he was in earshot of the boy, he was so close! He could taste the feeling of victory from where he stood! His right arm rose with the dagger poised at Tommy's back, and his left arm outstretched to push the boy off. He was there, right there, so close that he could hear the boys breathing! 

The boys breathing… 

Jacks smirk quickly faltered, right arm lowering a centimetre. His eyes widened and his soft gasp cut short when he heard the boy inhale again. Was Tommy… no, Tommy didn't... But there he was, back shuddering with shaky gasps, hands gripping at his dirty hair, and sobs choking out from his mouth. 

Why was Jack faltering? This was the time to strike, when he was most vulnerable! Why, why?!? He had spent forever pleading that he would have this moment, and now his body won't let him move? Could it be that he was scared to take someone's final life for the first time? For his first kill? Or could it be that Tommy, the boy who had lightened up the room wherever he went, the boy that smiled when he had hit rock bottom, the boy who was too big for the world, was crying?

Later Jack would curse himself for losing control of his body, because in the next minute his final opportunity to kill Tommy with his own two hands would be snatched away from him. 

“Tommy?” Jack found his traitorous mouth calling out, wanting nothing more than to slap a hand over it and suffocate the life out of it. Tommy suddenly whipped around, and Jack wishes he had never come up to the mountain. 

Wet trails of tears streamed down his face, turning from crystal clear to muddy brown as it pulled dirt off of his pores. His eyes were red and puffy, and his brows furrowed in anxiety for who could see him at his worst. 

Once he realised that it was Jack who had spoken out, he hastily whipped his tears away, putting on that shit-eating grin that Jack had always resented.

“Jack!” He growled out playfully, laughing his signature laugh. Was it really HIS signature laugh though? The lines were blurred now, Jack could no longer read Tommy. He had always thought Tommy as very irrational and predictable, an easy to read child. Nothing more or less. But now, after what he had glimpsed, was Tommy’s character really that simple? 

“What are you doing up here Big J?” Jack's thoughts were solidified when Tommy’s voice cracked at the end. Even though he knew the answer, his moronic mouth had to open and spew the obvious. 

“Were you- crying?” Jack had the burning urge to rip out his voice box right then and there but alas his body was being an absolute nuisance to him, too stubborn to move. Tommy's eyes widened, his grin slipping an inch. 

“What? Cry? That's for bitch boys and women, I'm a big man and I do not cry!”, Tommy laughed nervously. Jack's eyebrows furrowed together. That didn't sound genuine. 

“Drop the act Tommy, why were you crying?” Tommy diverted his eyes to meet anything besides Jack’s eyes. 

“Well I- I uh…” While Tommy was contemplating with himself, Jack was also facing a storm of turmoil in his head. 

Jack didn't understand, he had never held any hesitancy to kill Tommy before, so why now? The two sides of his brain clashed together, making unnecessarily loud noise. Statements of ‘Kill him now!’, ‘He's just a child’, ‘What are you doing?’, and many more flooded his head but one line seemed to stand out. ‘Who are you, Tommy?’ 

Tommy's head shot up, finally making eye contact with the man. He chuckled. 

“What do you mean, I am Tommy, the biggest and best-est man on this server!” Jack must have said that out loud then, but he was, in a way, glad he did. When Tommy met his eyes, he didn't see the same blue he usually did. Jack knew it was a cheesy line, but maybe eyes were truly windows to the soul because what Jack saw in them wasn't Tommy. It's an act. ‘It's an act…’ 

“What do you mean, ‘It's an act’ Jack?” Tommy's mouth was set into a thin line, no longer allowing him to raise the corners. 

How didn't he realise this before? At this point, Jack couldn't even control his thoughts, and they came spewing out as words of consciousness. 

“This big man act, this ‘I love women and hate men’ act, this ‘I'm not scared of anything’ act, it's all a lie, isn't it? It's a persona.” Tommy recoiled, chin tilting up as if it would make him look more intimidating. 

“What do you mean? Stop talking,” Tommy said, visibly wincing when his voice cracked again. Jack glared at the boy. He would not be killing Tommy until he figured what the fuck was going on with him. 

“Drop it.  _ Now _ .” Jack growled looking him dead in the eyes. Something flickered in Tommy's eyes, flipping a light switch somewhere in his mind. He shrunk into himself, bringing his knees up to his chest as the tears started slowly trickling again. 

“Wait- wait please-” Out of concern and confusion for the sudden switch, Jack stepped forward. What a mistake that was. Tommy crawled into a tight fetal position, arms flying up to make a barrier in front of his head. 

“WAIT! Wait please! I- Ill throw all of my things in the pit! Please just don't hurt me Dre- Jack!” Jack jumped backwards in shock. 

What the… 

Whatever he did must have triggered something in Tommy, and judging by his odd words he had triggered something that had happened in the past. 

“Tommy, I'm sorry-” Tommys choked sobs drowned out Jack's apology, crawling further into himself. Jack was at a loss, and fear struck him when Tommy was struggling to breathe. He didn't think it through when he snapped at him. 

“Tommy! Stop!” Tommy's body stopped squirming but dry heaves racked his body.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry- I didn't mean to! I'll stop.” 

Jack seemed to realise that he had made the situation worse and reached out a hand to him. “Tommy-” He flinched away from the outstretched hand, starting to tremble. 

“Tommy I need you to breathe. Can you breathe with me?” Following Jack's lead, Tommy took in deep breaths, shakily, but steadily. He had calmed himself down to an almost normal level.

“I- I don't understand…” Tommy muttered. Jack's eyebrow quirked up. 

“What do you mean?” Tommy raised his head from his legs.

“Why are you helping me?” Jack smiled.

“You're like my younger brother, an annoying one at that, but-” 

“Stop lying.” Jack paused.

“What do you mean?” Tommy's eyes narrowed in anger. 

“I just don't understand! You make me drop my so-called act but you won't do the same? Stop pretending like you care!” Jack recoiled from the harsh words, body jerking like Tommy had shot him. Well, in a way he did; metaphorically speaking.

“I do care! What are you talk-?” Tommy sprang up from where he was sitting suddenly, taking Jack by surprise. 

“Do you think I'm stupid?” Tommy screamed, pointing his finger at Jack. Jack backed up, but Tommy only followed in his steps.

“Do you think I'm that oblivious? That I don't know what you've been trying to do?” Jack’s eyes widened. 

“What are you-” The blonde jabbed his pointed finger into Jack's chest, digging it into his skin. 

“You don't think I know what you and Niki are trying to do?” Jack's blood ran cold, face paling to a porcelain white. There's no possible way that Tommy knew, how would he even know? 

“Why are you hesitating to kill me? I don't understand! Why now?” Tommy's voice had grown quiet by the time he had finished his sentence, voice breaking with emotions of grief. Tommy crumpled onto the ground, gripping the hem of Jack's shirt for support. Jack was at a loss for words, too scared to touch the blond in fear that he would relapse into his former state. 

Tommy reminded Jack of the golden salamander, a reptile that is not well known by its peers but is placed as a prized possession amongst other lizards. A lizard whose tail would be plucked by everyone around the creature to receive profit off of, however the lizard knows he must keep growing the tail back or else his captors will lose use for him, casting him aside. A salamander who wanted to make its owners proud. 

Bile rose in Jack's mouth, threatening to spill out akin to his words at the implications that had arisen from his mind. Now that he thought about it, Tommy did everything for everyone back in the times of the revolution. He helped everyone, did all he could to make everyone proud. They didn't allow him to make a mistake or else he would be thrown aside. He forced the substance back down, his throat burning from the acidic content. 

“How much do you know?” Jack asked with a diminutive breath. Tommy chuckled, devoid of any humour that might have compensated for the empty silence and oxygen-deprived tension. 

“I know about the nukes, how Niki was trying to lead me to the site,” Jack's breath caught as he turned his head to look down at the younger boy who was shielding his face from Jack's perspective.

“I know about how you were trying to murder me while building my hotel,” Jack closed his eyes as if that would close his ears off from the sound of Tommy’s voice. 

“I know about your future plans to use Technoblade to kill me, but all of your plans never work,” Tommy’s grip fell from his shirt, arms resting vertically weighted down from the gravity of the situation.

“I just don't understand why you won't kill me now when it's the perfect chance.” The statement almost made Jack lurch forward. Tommy makes it sound like he wanted to be killed. 

Something clicked in Jack's head, something he never wished connected. He wished he was left in the dark so that he wouldn't hesitate to kill him. 

“Tommy, why did you come up to this mountain?” Jack found himself asking.

“To finish what Will started,” Tommy replied immediately, almost like his brain was hardwired to automatically speak on accord of a database of pre-recorded responses. Whatever Tommy said, that was not what Jack was expecting. Then again with all that has happened this night, he should really stop thinking that Tommy was predictable.

“But- Wilbur has already finished everything he aspired to do! L’Manburg is gone, he can rest in peace now, L’Manburg is finished!” 

Tommy lifted his head, shaking it as he met Jack's eyes again for the third time that night. However much Jack wanted to look away from them they followed him like a predator tracking and leading its prey to the slaughter. But his eyes seemed comforting, as a Siren's voice is to a lonely sailor. Jack despised it greatly. 

“The symphony is completed.” Jack froze. Flashbacks of Wilbur proclaiming ‘My unfinished symphony,  _ forever _ unfinished!’ rang in his head like the Church Prime bell. Before Jack could question this, Tommy had started monologuing again.

“Wilburs worst fear was that L’Manburgs symphony would be completed. The composer of the world's most influential song throws his music into the river, becoming soggy and torn. Although the remnants can be seen downstream those few chunks of paper, you are unable to read them or put them back together. Wilbur was a conductor of a band, moving each instrumental section like pieces of a chess game. Wilbur wanted there to be a remembrance of his song, for people to remember it by. But Wilbur never wanted people to create an arrangement for it. You see Jack,” Tommy continued. 

“People went against Wilburs wishes, creating full-blown covers of his song. They were somehow able to pick up the ruined verses from downstream and piece it back together. The glue that held them together was wet and damaged as well, but was the same glue that held the original melody together.” 

Tommy was almost hysterical at this point, words almost slurring together in how fast he was reciting them. 

“Wilbur  _ knew _ from the get-go that glue would be used to hold together the copy of his song, so he used a particular glue he commissioned to make sure it would fall apart again. He knew that someone would plagiarise his song and put precautions in place to prevent it from being published.  _ THEY STILL MANAGED TO KEEP TOGETHER THE SONG! _ !!” Tommy screamed, pupils shaking and dilating at a rapid pace. 

“They changed the composition of the glue, they tainted it! They completed the symphony! The glue failed Jack! It failed!” Tears were falling down his face, the emotions strong in his entire body. 

“But the glue knew what it had to do. It had to get help from the staplers and the paper clips. They were able to tear up Wilburs symphony, and it was destroyed, lost forever. Now there was nothing left of his song. Except for one final thing.” Tommy looked downcast. 

“The glue is the remaining thing leftover from his song, reminding everyone of the rich sounds the composer had created. The glue needs to stop subsisting, and only then will Wilbur's song remain forever unfinished.” Tommy took in deep gulps of breath, gasping in the cold night air. 

Jack was at a loss for words, somehow understanding but not comprehending what the frantic boy was saying. 

“I-... I don't understand Tommy. What are you saying?” Tommy sighed.

“Wilbur never wanted L’manberg back. He wanted the memory of it there as a reminder but didn't want history repeating itself. So, he planted glue to make sure that the nation would fall if it ever rose again. The glue didn't know until recently that it had been chosen to make sure that his unfinished symphony would be left unfinished. He completed his task, doing everything in his power to stop what he knew was going to happen. Stop history from repeating itself. The glue wanted Wilbur to be proud of him even though he knew Wilbur was only using him  _ BECAUSE _ he was the glue of the nation, the one with the ability to bring it all down. Now that its task is complete, it must do its final job and make sure that all remnants of Lmanberg are gone.” Jack's mouth fell open as he watched the boy in front of him. 

“No,” was the only answer Jack was able to muster out. 

“I'm the glue, Jack.” Tommy smiled sadly, the tears had long stopped only leaving puffy red streaks in its trail. 

“Wilburs not the only one who will benefit by my death,” Tommy said like it was nothing, talking like it was some boring paperwork he had to do later that evening. 

“Bad and Antfrost wanted to sacrifice me to the egg, giving it power. I won't let them use me to harm you guys. I am practically Dreams possession, the only thing that he wants to own in this world. I don't want to let him get what he wants. He was too close to getting it in my exile. By dying Wilburs unfinished symphony can never be completed, letting him finally rest in peace. By dying, I am helping you and Niki get what they want. I'm so tired Jack, so tired of being used as a tool. Like  _ glue _ ,” Tommy said, unfazed by what he was implying. 

“Jack,” Tommy said sternly, a complete shift from the former hesitant words, like what he was about to say was final with no flexibility. A sentence that would be the only ever solidified decision he would make. 

“Kill me.” 

Wilbur tried to prevent history from repeating itself by making the glue that would stop the butterfly effect. However, Wilbur's insanity blinded him from the fact that  _ he  _ was the one who recreated history. He had turned the glue into him, a second Wilbur. 

“Jack, kill me. Kill me. Kill me now.”  _ ‘Phil, kill me. Kill me now.’ _

Jack's hands started shaking as Tommy's hand landed on his. 

“Stab me with your dagger, Jack. Jack, Jack Manikill.”  _ ‘Stab me with your sword, Phil. Phil, Killza.’  _

Tommy's hand had led his own to the hilt of his dagger, pulling it out gradually. Well, perhaps it was quick, time seemed to slow down. 

“Everyone on this server wants me dead. It will make everything better. Look at everyone. They want you to.” _ ‘Look at everyone, they want me dead. They are watching.’  _

Jack felt the tip of the blade press against Tommy's chest. 

“Do it. Kill me.” _ ‘Do it. Kill me.’  _

Jack felt cold, his limbs unresponsive to his brain who was busy throwing around thoughts of ‘Do it now!’ and ‘Don't do it!’. Jack stayed still, opting to remain silent to see what the result would be. After a few minutes of remaining in this position, Tommy spoke up however only adding to the already heavy tension present. 

“Why won't you kill me?” He asked with such vulnerability it unnerved him. Jack didn't respond. Tommy growled, his anger starting to rise. 

“Why can't you just kill me?” Jack didn't respond. Tommy's eyes lit up in fury. 

“Why!?  _ WHY _ !? I'm going to die either way, by you killing me or killing myself! I didn't expect for you to come up here, but it presented a perfect opportunity for the both of us! Why won't you take it? I'm giving you, the one who wants me dead, the opportunity to kill me with your  _ own _ hands! Why won't you take it?” Jack remained silent.

“Fine! You'll never get your goddamned satisfaction now Jack. This was your choice. Remember that.” Jack didn't move. 

He didn't move when Tommy ripped the dagger out of his hands. Tommy's words were so genuine that he didn't have a sliver of fear telling him that Tommy was going to kill Jack. Tommy reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out something, tossing it to the side as he turned the dagger to point at his torso. 

Jack didn't move. 

“Make sure to tell everyone that the glue is gone. Give that journal to Tubbo for me.” Tommy nodded his head towards the object that he had thrown beside him. 

“Goodbye, Jack.” 

Jack didn't move. 

He didn't move as he watched the dagger slide into the boy's chest with a sickening squelch. 

He didn't move as blood started to stain the formally white and red t-shirt until the white was almost the same tone as the red fabric. 

He didn't move when Tommys eyes closed, a peaceful look and smile on his face. 

He didn't move as Tommy slowly fell backwards. Jack urges his arm to move forward, to grasp Tommy's sleeve like that would save him from his already unavoidable doom. 

His body doesn't respond to his protests, to his resoundingly silent pleads.

He didn't move as he watched Tommy's lifeless body disappear over the edge of the cliff. When he heard a distant thump, only then did his body answer. Jack couldn't bring himself to look over the edge, to see what he already imagined in his mind. 

Jack wasn't able to move fast enough. He was too late. Jack clenched his fist, fingernails digging into his skin as the flesh slowly split, the crimson trickling slowly down between the wedges of his fingers.

Jack threw his head up to the sky, cursing the gods. Even now, God and Lady Luck plotted against him, favouring that brat over him. How dare they?! After all that he has done to reach this moment, they cursed his body into stone. He wanted Tommy dead, so badly. 

But he wanted Tommy dead by his own accord, by his own hands, by Jack’s sacrificial blood given up in a goblet as an offer to the consumers of the golden salamanders tail, by Jack's own soluent dissolving Tommy's so-called glue. 

The Gods have cursed Jack, allowing Tommy to kill himself rather than be killed by Jack. His one wish. He hated Tommy so, so much. He wishes Tommy will burn in hell, forced to eat his own rotting flesh as his only sense of nourishment. 

He looked to the journal that Tommy had left behind, cautiously walking over to it. He picked the small bound book up, the smell of old leather and paper filling his nose along with some of Tommy's blood that had splattered onto it. 

Jack turned from the blankless cover to the first page, before dropping it to the crimson-stained ground. He hated Tommy so much. He hated Tommy. A few traitorous tears slipped down his face. 

He couldn't save him.

_ A picture of the original L’Manburg members was plastered on the first page. The date read June 20th, and was captioned with ‘My Family.’ _


End file.
